Beneath the Stetson

by Janice Maynard

  She nodded, deciding not to take offense at his honesty. “My plan is to pull all the files of the people I interviewed in the initial investigation. I’ll comb through them and see if anything stands out.”

  “In other words, you’re looking for a needle in a haystack.”

  “Despite what television and movies would have you believe, law enforcement is seldom glamorous.”

  “Why did you choose this career path?” he asked, his gaze reflecting genuine interest.

  Bailey hesitated.

  “Sorry,” he said quickly. “None of my business.”

  “No. It’s okay. I suppose I was debating how to answer that. As a teenager I would have told you I wanted to serve my country.”

  “And that’s not true?”

  “It is true, but I’m not the starry-eyed idealist I was back then. And I’m a little more self-aware, I think. I’ve come to understand that I do what I do because I wanted to make my father proud of me.”

  “I’m sure he must be.”

  She grimaced. “Not really. He wanted me to go into the military. He’s a career army guy. But that never seemed like the right fit for me, so state law enforcement was my compromise. I thought he would come around eventually, but he hasn’t.”

  “Parents can be shortsighted. Do you regret your choice?”

  No one had ever asked her that. Her job was fulfilling and she was good at it. But she wasn’t sure it was going to be her life’s work. “To be honest, I wanted to be a musician. I’m pretty good on the guitar and the piano. I took advantage of almost all my electives when I was in college to sign up for music courses.”

  Gil stared at her. Hard. As if trying to see inside her head. “You’re an interesting person, Bailey Collins.”

  She might not be the most experienced woman on the planet, but she knew when a man wanted her. The look in Gil’s eyes was unmistakable. There was enough fire and passion in his dark eyes to make her body go liquid with longing. She had felt the spark the first time they met and doggedly ignored it because he was a potential suspect.

  But Gil was innocent, and the feelings were still there. If she encouraged his interest, things might get very intense during her time in Royal. The truth was, she was afraid that getting involved with someone who played a role in her investigation was unprofessional at best. Keeping a clear line between business and pleasure was not going to be easy.

  She met his gaze reluctantly. “So are you, Gil. So are you.”

  He jerked when she said his name. As if her utterance of that single syllable shocked him. Now the frown returned in full force. “I have things to do,” he said gruffly. “Are you all set?”

  If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought he was ready to beat a hasty retreat. “I’m fine,” she said. “How long do I have before we meet Cade for lunch?”

  “A couple of hours. He gets a snack at the center, so I made a reservation in the dining room for twelve-thirty. Does that work for you?”

  “Of course. And will I be able to come back this afternoon and pick up where I left off?”

  “Yes. Feel free to leave everything out. I’ll lock the door when we go to eat, and no one will bother your papers.”

  “You’re being very accommodating all of a sudden.”

  “I’ve been pretty rough on you,” he admitted, his neutral gaze hard to read. “I know you’re merely doing your job. I don’t like it, but I suppose there’s no point in shooting the messenger.”

  She took a step in his direction just as he did the same. Suddenly they were nose to nose in the small office. Her hands fluttered at her sides. “Thank you, Gil. Your cooperation makes my life a lot easier.” She heard the huskiness in her voice and winced inwardly. Her eyes were level with his throat. They stood so close to each other she could see the hint of a dark beard on his firm, sculpted chin.

  Without warning, Gil slid his hands beneath her hair, thumbs stroking her neck. He tipped her face up to his, their lips mere centimeters apart. His beautiful eyes teemed with turbulent emotion “You’re going to be trouble, aren’t you, Bailey Collins?”

  “Why would you say that?” she asked, knowing full well what he meant but wanting to hear him admit that the attraction wasn’t one-sided.

  His lips brushed hers in a caress that could barely even be called a kiss. She leaned into him, wanting more.

  But straight-arrow Gil Addison was a tough man. “Women and government are always trouble. When you put both in the same package, there’s likely to be hell to pay.”

  Three

  Bailey leaned against the desk for a full three minutes after Gil left the room, her legs like spaghetti. She had wanted to know if he had felt it, too, the heated connection between them. Now she had irrevocable proof. It was a wonder the tiny room full of aging paper hadn’t gone up in flames on the spot.

  Fanning her hot face with one hand, she reached for her briefcase and pulled out her laptop and portable scanner. It was one thing to contemplate seducing the steely-eyed rancher, but another entirely to realize that all he had to do was touch her and she melted.

  She was here to do a job. Before she contemplated any hanky-panky, she needed to get her priorities in order. Fortunately, she had made a plan already, so even though her concentration was shot, she was able to follow through with her agenda.

  The method of attack was fairly simple. Using a list of interviews from her earliest days in Royal, she pulled file folders methodically, keeping them in alphabetical order. Though she hadn’t anticipated the complication of not having anything digitized, she would cope. As long as she didn’t do something stupid like knocking a pile of paper off the desk, she should be able to proceed with relative efficiency.

  Thirty minutes later she had finished reading through three folders and had developed a throbbing tension headache. She banged her fist against her forehead. Not only was much of the information not typed or organized in any discernible fashion, but the handwritten portions were barely legible.

  To call this mess record-keeping was generous. It was impossible to compare one file with the next, because every member’s information was different. Other than an initial sheet that documented simple details such as name, address and date of initial membership, all the other pages were a hodgepodge of business deals, sporting records and family connections.

  It took her another half hour, but she finally managed to come up with a spreadsheet that allowed her to input the pertinent items that might be of use in the investigation. Her stomach growled more than once. She hadn’t eaten breakfast, too nervous about meeting Gil again to be very interested in food.

  She glanced at her watch and sighed. The minutes crawled by. Perhaps she was bored with the job, or maybe she was looking forward to lunch with Gil and his precocious son. Her distraction didn’t bode well for the days ahead....

  * * *

  Gil prowled the familiar halls of the club, pausing again and again to greet and chat with men he had known for years, many of them since he was a child at his father’s side. He was comfortable within these walls, centered, content. The Texas Cattleman’s Club had suffered a few growing pains lately, but it would survive and thrive.

  Tradition and stability were important. Which was why Gil had passed the day-to-day running of his ranch over to other hands so he could concentrate on his son’s well-being. One day, everything Gil owned would go to Cade. Cade would get married, settle down and hopefully have better luck in the romance department than his father had.

  What really stuck in Gil’s craw was the knowledge that the genesis of his unease sat not far away, her beautiful head bent over a stack of dull club papers, trying to find dirt on someone who might be Gil’s friend. Perhaps the real problem wasn’t that Gil didn’t trust Bailey. Perhaps what bothered him the most was the notion that someone in Royal coul
d have committed such a terrible crime.

  Alex was back home, true. But a man with no memory was as vulnerable as a baby in the middle of a busy city street. How would Alex know if the perpetrators came at him again? How would anyone ever know what evil roamed the streets of Royal if Alex never remembered?

  For years, Royal had been a great place to live, to raise a family. Occasionally the sheriff was forced to contend with cattle rustlers. And once in a while a two-bit drug dealer might try to set up shop. Of course, there were the usual domestic disturbances, or teenagers letting off steam on a Saturday night. But all in all, Royal was a pretty safe place.

  At least it was until Alex Santiago had disappeared. The local and state authorities had crawled all over the town in the beginning. There were rumors of a potential drug war or maybe even bad blood between Alex and Chance McDaniel, who had appeared interested in the same woman. But since that time, everyone Gil knew intimately had been marked off the suspect list.

  Which was all well and good except for the fact that still no one knew who the kidnappers were.

  Maybe Gil should be more helpful to Bailey. He wanted his town back to normal, and Bailey wanted to close her case. So perhaps it was in Gil’s best interest to help her. The sooner she was finished, the sooner she would leave town and go back to Dallas. That would be the smartest thing that could happen.

  Gil didn’t need the complication of an uncomfortable sexual attraction that was not likely to go anywhere. Already, Gil’s son liked Bailey. Which meant that soon Cade would be weaving scenarios where Bailey became his new mom. Gil had seen it happen before. The boy’s unwavering fixation on finding a mother meant that Gil no longer dated in Royal.

  Not that he ever had dated much. When his physical needs became too demanding, he either dealt with them via a cold shower, or he met up with an old female friend in another town who was as uninterested in a serious relationship as Gil was. Those encounters left him feeling empty and oddly restless. But Gil had yet to find a woman who came even close to what he thought his son needed.

  Bailey was a career woman whose job involved a lot of travel. Though Bailey and Cade had clicked at their first meeting, Bailey didn’t strike Gil as the nurturing type. Cade had lost so much. If and when Gil ever remarried, it would be to a woman with traditional values, a woman who believed in the importance of being a full-time parent.

  Gil had played that role for a very long time. And never once regretted his decision. Cade’s sweet spirit and outgoing personality were proof that Gil had at least done something right. But Cade would soon be going to school full time. As much as Gil would miss his son, he was looking forward to once again taking an active role in the management of the Straight Arrow.

  What he and Cade needed was a down-to-earth woman, one who would supervise the domestic staff, plan meals for the housekeeper to carry out and organize social events...tasks Gil had no interest in at all.

  That paragon of a woman was out there somewhere. Gil had to believe she was, because the prospect of spending his entire life as a single parent and a single man sounded very lonely indeed.

  At ten after twelve, he gave up the pretense of being busy and headed back to his office. Bailey didn’t appear to have moved at all since he left her two hours ago. She was surrounded by stacks of paper. Her fingers flew with impressive speed over the keys of her laptop computer.

  She didn’t even notice when he came in.

  He cleared his throat. Bailey’s head snapped up as she glared at him. “It wouldn’t hurt you to knock,” she said. “You scared me to death.”

  “It’s my office,” he responded mildly. “You’re only visiting.” He grabbed a ladder-back chair and turned it around, straddling the seat. Bailey was behind his desk, so he now faced her across the cluttered surface. Her thick russet hair was drawn back into a ponytail at the nape of her neck. Tendrils waved around her face. Her work must have been frustrating, because the vibe he was getting from her was definitely harried. “Problems, Bailey?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You knew how impossible this was going to be, didn’t you?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “I have the utmost faith in your capabilities.” He paused. “Any luck?” He didn’t really want to get involved in what he considered a breach of privacy for the members of the club, but at the same time, he didn’t want to be blindsided with any surprises.

  She gnawed her lip, her gaze flitting back to the computer screen. “It’s a little early to tell. But I do have some questions about this man.” She shoved a folder toward Gil. “According to his file, he’s been cited three separate times for fighting on club property. Do you know if he had any kind of grudge against Alex Santiago?”

  Gil glanced at the name on the tab and shook his head, grinning. “Just a good ole boy who gets rowdy when he’s had one too many beers. We keep track of such incidents, just in case, but our policy is to prevent members from doing damage to themselves or anyone else. Someone usually takes the offender home and keeps his keys until the following day. I know this guy, Bailey. He didn’t kidnap Alex.”

  The slight frown between her brows deepened. She handed him a second file. “And this one? He filed a formal complaint when the club hired a Hispanic chef. His letter includes a number of racial slurs.”

  Gil flipped open the folder and shook his head. “You’re grasping at straws. There are bigots everywhere. But that doesn’t mean this guy had any reason to kidnap Alex.” He touched her hand briefly, surprising himself when he felt a zing of something from the simple contact. “Have you considered the possibility that you might be stirring up unnecessary trouble?”

  “What do you mean?”

  She was so earnest, so dedicated to her work. And clearly able to take care of herself. Even so, Gil felt a distinct urge to protect her. Her white silk blouse was thin, thin enough for Gil to notice the outline of a lacy bra. Despite her extensive training and her credentials, she seemed vulnerable and surprisingly feminine even taking into consideration her deliberately bland and professional clothing.

  Bailey’s soft skin, gently rounded breasts, and graceful hands reminded Gil that beneath the outer shell of efficiency, she was a woman. He met her brown-eyed gaze with a calm he didn’t feel. Some way, somehow, he had to convince her to back off this investigation. The feeling in his gut could be called premonition...or simply common sense. But he trusted that feeling...always.

  “What you’re doing is dangerous, Bailey. If word gets out that you’re poking around in the TCC records, whoever kidnapped Alex may get spooked and try to harm you.”

  She sighed and closed her computer. “Is this genuine concern, or are you trying to get rid of me?”

  “All of the above?” He asked it jokingly, but he sobered rapidly. “Alex escaped and made his way back home. Which means somebody out there is really pissed off and may try again. There’s a good chance Alex is still in danger. By involving yourself in his situation, you court the same trouble.”

  Her chin lifted. “I’m doing my job. No more, no less.”

  “And if your job could get you killed?”

  “I’m a paper pusher, Gil.”

  “You’re a pain in the butt,” he groused, realizing he wasn’t going to win this round. But hearing her say his name was a small victory, nevertheless. He stood and held out his hand. “I’m starving, and Cade will be, too. Let’s go find him.”

  * * *

  The club dining room was packed. Bailey looked around with interest as the hostess led them across the floor. In a far corner at a table for two sat Rory and Shannon Fentress, still basking in the glow of being newlyweds. It was rumored that Rory had his eye on the governor’s mansion.

  Like Bailey, Shannon was not much of a girlie girl. She owned and managed a working ranch and dressed accordingly when she was in town on business. Judging by the way Rory looked at his new wife, h
e liked her just the way she was.

  Gil had reserved a table by the window because Cade liked to watch the horses outside. Though of course the TCC had a parking lot, it wasn’t at all unusual for someone to ride up, tie his mount to the wooden railings out front, and saunter inside for a bite of lunch.

  Cade was his usually bubbly self. “I’m glad you’re eating lunch with us, Miss Bailey.” His form of address was the compromise Gil had allowed in his insistence that his son learn manners.

  Bailey smiled at him. “Me, too. Did you enjoy yourself this morning?”

  Cade nodded, already filling his mouth with crackers.

  Without saying a word, Gil removed the basket from his son’s reach. “I think a lot of the members have been surprised at how nice it is to be able to drop off a son or daughter or even a grandchild and to know that the kids are close by, happy and safe.”

  “Do you think the trouble is over?”

  “I do. I really do. I still hear grumbling, of course. Particularly from the old guard.”

  “You mean like him?” Bailey cocked her head unobtrusively, not letting Cade see. A few tables away sat Paul Windsor, a charter member of the TCC.

  Gil grimaced. “Yeah. He’s one of the worst. But even so, I doubt he’d ever actually do anything to cause problems for the center.”

  Bailey shuddered inwardly. She had interviewed Paul during her initial investigation, and the man had given her the creeps. Divorced four times, Windsor considered himself a ladies’ man. During the course of her questioning, Bailey had discovered without a doubt that Windsor was perhaps the most overt and obnoxious chauvinist she had ever met. He made no secret of his disdain for Bailey.

  “I feel sorry for Cara,” she said, “having such an overbearing father.” Bailey knew what that was like far too well.

  “I’ll admit...Windsor can be a jerk. But he wields a lot of influence around here, so it would be a plus to stay on his good side if you want to make any progress with your investigation. If he were to raise a stink, he could convince others that you shouldn’t be here in the club.”